Surrender To Sultry (20 page)

“Duly noted,” he said and nodded at the door. “You can go now.”

Pain flashed across her ivory features, and he felt it like a mule kick to the gut.

“That’s not what I came here to tell you.” Her voice was so damned pitiful that he
had to hold back from offering her a glass of water. Shit, what was wrong with him?
“I talked to the Ackermans last night.”

“I figured you would.”

“I asked them to bring Noah for a visit so you two can meet.”

Colt raised a brow. “What’d they say?”

“They said yes. They’re flying down next week.” She bit her lip and flicked a glance
at him. “There’s just one thing…”

He didn’t like the sound of that.

“…I told Jim and Diane that if they’d come to Sultry Springs, the four of us would
sit down and resolve all this without lawyers.”

“Ah, Jesus.” This was un-friggin’-believable. Colt slapped his desk and shot to his
feet. “There you go again, making decisions for me! You had no right to tell them
that.” He still hadn’t figured out what course of action to take, but he lied and
said, “I’ve already got a lawyer.”

“Just listen. Please.” She begged with her eyes, and he couldn’t bring himself to
toss her into the hall. He really was going soft. “We all love Noah,” she said. “It’s
in our best interest to work together and balance his needs with our own. Let’s try
it and see what happens, and if we can’t come to an agreement, then bring in your
attorney. I’m surprised he hasn’t already advised you to try this before taking it
to the next level.”

Colt dodged that last bit by grumbling something about not having time for a formal
consultation yet. Then he lowered to his chair and tried to think over the rush of
anger dulling his brain. Leah was probably right, even though she went behind his
back—again—to facilitate the meeting. It made sense to try and work out a deal with
the Ackermans before involving the courts.

“Fine,” he decided. “But don’t ever speak for me again. You’re not my go-between,
and you don’t have a say in what I do. Stay the hell out of my business. Are we clear?”

“Perfectly clear.” She stood from her chair but made no move to leave. Instead, she
clasped both hands behind her back and chewed her bottom lip, just like the first
day she’d returned to town. And the first time he’d kissed her. “I just want to say
again how sorry I am. I know what I did was wrong, but I had good intentions. I swear
I didn’t do it to hurt you.”

Colt couldn’t look at her. He grabbed his clipboard and flipped through the citizens’
complaints, hoping she’d take the hint and go.

“I know you’re angry,” she went on. “And hurt. But I hope you can forgive me someday.
Is there anything at all I can do to make this right?”

Unless Leah had discovered a way to time-travel, that wasn’t going to happen. But
there was one thing she could do to make his life a little easier. The reminders of
her were bad enough inside his empty home. He couldn’t survive bumping into her at
the Sack-n-Pay and the coffee shop for the rest of his existence.

“I want you to go home to Minnesota,” Colt said. “When your daddy’s back on his feet.”
He chanced a split-second glance at her—it was all he could bear. “If you stay, it’s
gonna be difficult for both of us to move on.”

She fell silent for several beats while Colt stared at his reports, seeing nothing.
He didn’t want to think about her moving on with another man, but it would eventually
happen.

“I’ll…um…” A soft sob choked off her words, but he refused to make eye contact. If
he saw her cry, he’d never get the image out of his head. “I’ll think about it.”

“Thanks. I’d appreciate that.”

She sniffled and hiccupped in an effort to hold back her tears—awful noises that tore
through his guts like shrapnel. Then she bolted from the room, leaving the door open
so he heard the quick, light tap of her shoes retreating down the hall.

Colt tossed aside his clipboard and tipped back his head. His insides felt raw, as
if he’d injected acid into his veins and the burning solution was working its way
into each and every muscle fiber beneath his skin. He hadn’t ached this badly since
the day he’d woken up in the hospital wearing a full-body cast. If there was a pill
for this, he’d pop it in an instant, no matter what the cost. This was probably how
addicts felt. Now he understood what drove them to steal for a fix. He’d give anything
to make the pain stop.

But a warning voice at the back of his mind told him there was no escape…and this
was just the beginning.

“
What?
” A dollop of chili slipped from Rachel’s spoon, splattering against the diner’s Formica
tabletop. Rachel licked the spoon clean and used it to point at Leah. “Don’t you dare
let him run you out of town! I need you, Tink. This is where you belong, and if Sheriff
McSensitive can’t handle seeing you around, then let
him
leave.”

Leah sipped her iced tea and glanced around the room. Was it her imagination, or was
everybody staring at her? “It’s not just Colt, it’s hard for me too. I ran into him
at the drug store yesterday, and again this morning when I passed his cruiser on the
way to the farmer’s market. I get butterflies every time I see him, and then I remember
we’re not together anymore and it hurts so bad I want to throw up.” She slumped over
and rested her chin in her hand. “It’s awful.”

Rachel used a napkin to clean up her mess. “I get that, but the way I see it, you’re
gonna hurt for a while. You can either hurt all alone in Minnesota, or here with friends
and family who can help lift you up. If you stay, we can start over together—maybe
get our own place.” She smiled and crumbled a cracker over her chili. “Think of all
the trouble we could get into if we were roommates.”

Yeah, but
trouble
made Leah think of getting arrested, which made her think of Colt, which made her
ache all over. She stared into her tea and used her straw to poke at the ice cubes.
No matter what she did, her life was in shambles.

“Excuse me, Miss McMahon.”

Leah glanced up at the waitress, a timid sixteen-year-old with a sweet smile on her
lips and an enormous slice of cherry pie in her hand.

“The owner said to tell you this is on the house.” The girl set the plate on the table
with two forks and some extra napkins. “And congrats on the wedding.” She leaned down
and whispered, “I think he wants to cater the reception, just so you know.” Before
Leah had a chance to set her straight, the girl waved and strode away.

Leah stared at her fruity offering. As if passing Colt twice a day wasn’t painful
enough, she couldn’t take two steps in any given direction without someone congratulating
her on an engagement that’d never happened. And never would. Maybe she
should
move back to Minnesota. At least there, nobody wanted to take her dress shopping
or discuss color schemes.

“Well, that was weird,” Rachel said with a shrug. “But at least it came with a side
of pie.”

The tart scent of wild cherries turned Leah’s stomach, and she pushed the plate away.
“Go ahead and dig in. I don’t want any.”

“Aw, come on, Tink. You haven’t touched a bite all day, and it’s not like you’ve got
extra padding to—” She paused, her gaze shifting to someone behind Leah. “Hey there,
hon.”

Leah turned and spotted June approaching their table, her complexion a bit more peaked
than it was a few days ago. Something in June’s gait seemed off, maybe more sluggish
than usual, so Leah scooted over and patted the spot beside her on the booth.

“Sit down before you pass out,” she told June, who nodded and lowered to the vinyl
cushion. “I thought you were staying off your feet.”

“I am, mostly.” June started eyeing the cherry pie. “But I can’t sit around the house
all day. I mean, I’m pregnant, not dead. Besides, I had a craving for something, but
I couldn’t figure out what.” She spoke directly to the pie crust now. “That looks
pretty good.”

Leah handed her a fork. “You and Rachel can share it. I can’t eat a thing.”

“Oh, yeah.” June tore her gaze away from the pie long enough to offer a pitying look
and squeeze Leah’s hand under the table. “Bobbi told me what happened, but we haven’t
said a word to Luke or Trey. We figured you’d wanna keep it private as long as you
can.”

“Thanks.” She wondered how long before the news leaked. Probably a few days at the
most.

June grabbed a fork and divided the pie in half, then tore right in. They spent the
next several minutes in contented silence until June brought the last bite to her
lips. She paused and pressed one hand over her chest, her face contorting in discomfort.

“You okay?” Rachel asked from the other side of the table.

“Wicked heartburn,” June explained.

“Oh, yeah.” Leah remembered that well. Even water had given her heartburn during the
third trimester. “One of the many joys of pregnancy.”

“My stomach hurts too.” June sat back and brought a hand to her belly. Leah took the
liberty of touching her friend’s tummy to feel for the tightening of contractions,
but the muscles beneath her fingers were relaxed and springy. Nothing out of the ordinary.
“Probably just something I ate,” June said.

Leah didn’t like this. June hadn’t seemed like herself when she’d joined them, and
now a fine sweat had broken out on her cheeks. “You don’t have a headache, do you?”

She opened her mouth to respond and everything happened in a flash.

June’s body lurched and she started to gag. Rachel dashed for the nearest trash can,
returning just in time for June to vomit into it. When June’s shoulders and legs began
twitching uncontrollably, Leah knew what was wrong.

“Where’s your car parked?” she asked Rachel.

“Back at the store.” Rachel pulled back June’s hair and patted her back. “Why?”

Leah jammed her hand inside her pocket and retrieved her keys. “We’ll have to take
mine.” Bruiser wasn’t as fast as Rachel’s Subaru, but they didn’t have a minute to
spare. “We need to get her to the ER right now.”

“Should we call an ambulance?”

Leah shook her head. “They won’t get here and back to the hospital in time.”

June moaned and wiped her mouth with a handful of napkins. “In time for what?”

“Hey,” Leah called to the busboy. “Can you help us get her outside?”

The kid eagerly complied, and the three of them managed to get June settled in Bruiser’s
front seat with a small wastebasket wedged between her legs. Leah pressed a twenty
into the boy’s palm to cover their bill and dashed to the driver’s side door while
Rachel sat in the back. After cranking the ignition, Leah checked over her shoulder
for traffic and then peeled down Main Street, leaving clouds of rubber in her wake.

“In time for wh—” June began before heaving into the trash can.

Leah was ninety-nine percent sure June needed an emergency C-section, but she didn’t
want to worry her, especially considering the baby wasn’t full-term. She told Rachel,
“Call the ER and hand me the phone when they’re on the line,” then pushed the pedal
to the floor and prayed to God that the engine wouldn’t explode and kill them all.
They tore down the highway as fast as Bruiser could haul them, which turned out to
be sixty-eight and a half miles per hour.

“Here,” Rachel said, handing over the phone.

With June coughing and retching so violently from the passenger seat, it was impossible
to hear the staffer on the other end of the line, so Leah said loudly, “I’m on my
way to the ER with a friend. She’s…” Dang it, how far along was June? She couldn’t
remember. “She’s in her mid-third trimester, and I’m almost positive she’s got HELLP
syndrome.” Just to be safe, she repeated, “That’s H-E-L-L-P. She was complaining of
chest and abdominal pains, then she started vomiting and having seizures. She might
have internal bleeding. The baby’s not full-term yet, so have your neonatal staff
ready.”

Did Sultry Memorial even have a neonatal department? For June’s sake, she hoped so,
because this baby would have to make her entrance into the world in the next few minutes—ready
or not.

“What do you mean, neonatal staff?” June croaked.

So much for trying not to scare her. Leah handed the phone into the back seat and
glared at the road as if to propel them faster to their destination.

“They can’t…take the baby,” she said between dry heaves. “It’s too soon.”

When they pulled up to the Sultry Memorial emergency entrance, Leah honked the horn
like a lunatic and jumped the curb. She burst out of the car to meet the staff, who’d
already come running with a stretcher.

Leah opened the passenger door and said, “Her name’s—”

“June Gallagher,” finished one of the nurses. “I know. She’s a regular customer here.
We see so much of June, we should give her a Fast Pass.”

Before Leah could supply the team with any more information, they wheeled June inside
and she disappeared behind twin sliding doors.

Poor June. Growing up, she always
had
seemed a little unlucky. Leah hoped she’d gotten here in time. She decided to park
the car and head inside to the chapel. Maybe God had stopped hearing her prayers,
but it couldn’t hurt to try.

***

Colt slouched against his granddaddy’s leather sofa and idly toyed with a fuzzy fishing
lure he’d plucked from the wall. His low position put him eye-level with the desk
in front of him, where stacks of bench warrants and rulings awaited the judge’s signature.
As deputy and eventually sheriff, Colt had been to court so many times it felt like
a second home—a really dysfunctional home where you had to pass through a metal detector
to get inside. The last thing he wanted was to spend the next year of his life duking
it out in court and racking up a mountain of debt.

“Well, slap my ass and call me Sally,” Granddaddy said with a shake of his half-bald
head. “I never would’a guessed it. Didn’t I warn ya Leah wasn’t the same girl you
remembered?”

Nice. Leave it to Granddaddy to bust out
I
told
you
so
at a time like this.

“Well, guess what,” Colt retorted. “The Lord didn’t call her home to Sultry Springs
like you thought. She and her daddy were in cahoots the whole time—bet you didn’t
see that coming.” Pastor Mac was such a hypocrite, always asking,
What
would
Jesus
do?
You know what Jesus wouldn’t do? Steal people’s kids, that’s what. “But you were
right about Leah. Does that make you feel better?”

White bushy brows furrowed above rheumy eyes. “Course not, son.” He sat back and pulled
his pipe from the middle desk drawer. “I hate seein’ you upset, and what she did to
you was mighty low. But let’s focus on what we can control. It’s good that you’re
meetin’ with the boy’s parents. Just don’t sign anything till I have a look at it.”
He tossed a sack of tobacco onto the desk. “Speakin’ of which, what’re you gonna ask
for?”

Colt shrugged. He hadn’t given it much thought. “Ideally, I’d like joint custody,
but I’ll settle for visitation. It’d be great if we could divide the school year and
alternate summers so Noah splits his time between Minnesota and Texas.”

Granddaddy huffed a dry laugh. “Well, that ain’t what you’re gonna get—not even if
you’d raised the boy from birth.”

“Why not?” He’d heard joint custody was standard practice now. In fact, half the deputies
on the payroll needed flex schedules because they never knew which days of the week
they’d have their kids.

“First off, that boy doesn’t know you from Adam,” Granddaddy said, stuffing tobacco
shreds inside his pipe. “And second, kids need more stability than that. It’s not
good to bounce ’em from school to school every year. Don’t you want what’s best for
him?”

Colt’s whole body flashed hot. How many times would he have to hear that? He shouted,
“No, damn it!” before realizing what he’d just admitted. His face heated, but not
from anger this time.

The worst part was that Granddaddy didn’t look all that surprised. He struck a match
and lit his dried tobacco, then sucked a few leisurely puffs. “Well, that’s what the
court wants, so best prepare yourself and lower your expectations.”

“I didn’t mean it that way.” Colt wasn’t being selfish, was he? All he wanted was
to form a relationship with his son—something that went deeper than a few phone calls
now and then. There was nothing wrong with that. “Of course I care about what’s best
for Noah.”

The phone rang, interrupting their strategy session. Granddaddy answered the call
and spent the next few minutes uttering
Uh-huhs
and
Mmm-hmms
, and
Well, I’ll be
. Then he slammed down the receiver and abandoned his pipe.

“C’mon, boy.” Smiling, Granddaddy pushed to standing and grabbed his Stetson. “We’re
goin’ to the hospital to meet my new step-grandbaby!”

Step-grandbaby? But June wasn’t due until January. “Everything all right?”

The old guy scooted around his desk with a spring in his step. “There was some ruckus,
but mama and baby are both doin’ fine.”

“Only one baby, huh?” Colt would’ve bet his left nut there were twins inside that
Kong-sized belly. “It must be built like a linebacker.”

“Five pounds ’n change,” Granddaddy said. “Not bad for a preemie. Now get the lead
out so I can go see the little peanut.”

As Colt hustled alongside his granddaddy to the cruiser, he couldn’t help feeling
a twinge of envy for June and Luke. They weren’t family—not really—but Granddaddy
would be there to gush over their newborn and take a dozen pictures, which would probably
go on display beside Emma’s portrait on his desk. Just add that to the list of experiences
Colt had been denied. Aside from the giddy old coot beside him, none of Colt’s family
knew he had a child, and he didn’t have a single photo to share.

During the drive to the hospital, Colt tuned out his granddaddy’s yammering and tried
to narrow down his list of requests for the meeting in a few days. He didn’t want
to come across as a pushover, but in order to avoid a drawn-out court battle, he had
to keep his demands reasonable. It was a fine line, and he didn’t know where to draw
it.

The possibilities tumbled in his head, and by the time Colt pulled into the parking
lot, he was no closer to reaching a decision than before he’d left. He stood from
the cruiser and heaved a sigh. Might as well give his brain a rest, especially considering
they’d arrived at the hospital. He’d never told anyone, but every time he returned
to Sultry Memorial, his flesh practically crawled off his bones. There was no use
trying to think straight while he was here.